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How on earth?


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How on earth did you end up supporting the side that you did? 

Me? Born in Dundee, brought up in Leven. Was fortunate enough to have  been reluctantly lifted over the Bayview turnstiles by a Dundee United supporting father as a birthday treat. We won 5-0 and got promoted.

No looking back! 

Edited by Cosmic Joe
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I wanted to start going to live football games and a friend of my mum's was a season ticket holder at Livi. We went along to a pre season game that Livi won and we bought our season tickets there and then. My dad was a Rangers supporter growing up so I was leaning that way before the divine intervention of Marvin Andrews and David Fernandez

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My da said he wasn't going to have me supporting an Old Firm team so I got dragged to Dunfermline games instead because they were relatively decent at the time. Stopped supporting them when I moved to Dundee then Glasgow because I was broke and couldn't go for a long time which meant my interest fell away. 

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Born and bred in Montrose. I was taken to Links Park from a young age, but TBH I was more interested in running up and down the terracing after eating a pie and drinking a kwenchy kup. 

At primary school If I was asked what team I supported I'd have said Aberdeen one week, Celtic the week after and Dundee the week after that.

As a teenager I actually started paying attention at Mo games and I realised that supporting your local team is far more rewarding than latching onto some big team miles away.

I've called myself a Mo fan ever since and that has been both a blessing and a curse.

Edited by tongue_tied_danny
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Born and raised in Clydeside to a Celtic supporting family (both sides). Clydebank went bust when I was a kid. Went to 2 Celtic games with family in primary school. Went to 1 Clydebank game with friends in primary school. Went to 1 Ross County game with my dad (an ex Ross County player) in primary school. Decided to support Kilmarnock. Took the hump with Michael Johnston's regime and started watching Dumbarton in protest as I lived in the town at that time. Ended up watching them for a number of years, repeatedly having season tickets and even got married in the stadium. Live in West Dunbartonshire and support Kilmarnock and have a soft spot for Dumbarton. Also occasionally take in games of Clydebank, Yoker, Vale of Leven and Maryhill as the mood takes me because they're (relatively) local and I enjoy the variety.

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Was born in Dunfermline as my old man was in the navy and was based in Rosyth.

He was, and still is, much more of a rugby guy, although as a lad used to go and see Partick and Clydebank games. If pushed he used to say he was a  Partick fan.

As he was born in Glasgow and raised there for a time (with spells in Shetland), he knew the shite of the old firm and wanted me to have nothing to do with it. My maw has 3 brothers and two of them were Rangers fans, now Sevco fans. The other was, and still is, a Partick Thistle fan (he and one of his lads are season ticket holders). The two Oldco brothers used to try and get me to be a fan of Oldco. They even sent me a Rangers strip for Christmas one time.

It was all for nought though. I always loved football as a kid and when I was first taken to a Pars game in 1990, I had my team. Been a Pars since and shall always be.

 

TL;DR: I support my local team.

Edited by DA Baracus
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Dad's side of the family is from Greenock. My nan is a hardcore Morton fan. She's still with us and always tells us stories of being carried over the turnstiles in the late 40s/early 50s to games at Cappielow and watching games from the old high rise flats across from the ground where the car park is these days.

Was never interested in the 'Old Firm' nonsense so was a no brainer to sign myself up to a lifetime of misery supporting the 'Ton.

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Some horrible fat cnut took over my original team and told us all to f*ck off when we dared question his plan to move them to a desolate shithole 15 miles west of their location.

So after that and being a bit scunnered with football I found a pal had got involved with Edinburgh City. In the early days we played on a roped off public park and someone had to shovel the dug shite off the park. Now we do OK in the Seaside Leagues for a bunch of upstart diddies.

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Born in Inverness.

Fair play to my parents, my dad started taking me down to Telford street when I was 4, would have been our first year in division 3, we would be in the Howden end but I always ended up crying and wanting to go home at half time so my mum would have to pick me up. Still every time there was a home game on I wanted to go and my dad still took me down and my mum kept picking me up.

I must say have the terraces probably played a big part in me keeping interested in football. I remember once we moved to Caley Park I would always end up in the corner between the north and west stands kicking an empty soup cup about with my mates using the gates as a goal instead of actually watching the games. I started taking my boy to games at the same age range and he also wasn’t interested in sitting down for 90 mins watching the game, understandably tbf, but now it’s an all seater stadium it seems to be kind of frowned upon for him to be running around the bottom of the main stand. Also there isn’t really the chance for him to meet similar aged kids at the ground as they all need to be sitting down. 

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A more uncommon story for me, I'd never seen the team I support until I was 25 and moved from Glasgow to Linlithgow. I was brought up supporting one of the gruesome twosome - doesn't matter which - but I had always struggled with it because of, y'know, the support for murdering sectarian terrorist scum. I watched Queens Park a fair bit and I went to Partick Thistle while I was at uni, but they never really took hold of me.

When I  moved through here I started going along to Linlithgow Rose games, infrequently at first but gradually more often. I don't know when they became my first team, maybe after 3-4 years, but I know when they became my only team. About 13-14 years ago I was in the ground to see the team I'd been brought up to support win the league, and I just wasn't feeling it. I knew it was the end of something and I was fine with that. I've never seen them since and I was really surprised at how easy it was to enjoy watching them lose to other Scottish clubs but I still hate when they lose to the other half of the OF.

I'm bringing up my sons to be Linlithgow Rose fans, my younger son's not interested in football or sport at all and the older one is more into rugby. They're both a great disappointment tbqfh, though at least they're not OF fans.

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My dad and big brother are Thistle fans. I didn't start going every week til I was 10 and had my first season ticket in 2004, but got taken to the odd game here and there. I always had the option before then of either going to the shops with my mum (Warner Brothers studio, Woolworths pic and mix) or the football with my dad (pishing rain with no cover, can of coke in a nicotine-smogged pub).

I mind my dad being particularly keen to take me to one game and me not being arsed because all of my free time was spent on 1st gen Pokémon on the Game Boy. That was when we won promotion at Love Street in 2002 and the FOMO that came from that probably kept me going through all the utter, harrowing shite between then and 2013 when we won something again.

 

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My old man is a Dundee fan. He started taking me to games at Tannadice and Dens in 86-87 and let me make my own choice. I had a mild interest in fitba back then, but settled on Dundee after a 3-1 win at Dens against Falkirk in late 87. We had cool strips and Tommy Coyne was the absolute boy.

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As a bit of a tl;dr partial autobiography, I've added a soundtrack to help folk get though it.

[North Country Boy, The Charlatans]  I left Brechin/Angus when I was just four but decided in high school that some poor c*** had to support them.  Apparently I had been to Glebe Park as a toddler when my dad, who isn't really a football man but claims to support Motherwell, would walk in for free at half time.  Apparently I would say "go!" instead of "goal", although I can only presume that this was largely acknowledging the opposition's achievements.  My mum's side of the family are Killie fans and although I got taken to Rugby Park as a kid, I far preferred being taken to Dean Castle Country Park to see real squirrels instead.

[The Wanderer, Dion DiMucci]  More importantly, back as a teenager relying on pocket money and paper rounds, I could get 'a half' bus ticket to a game that only charged £5 for a juvenile somewhere I hadn't been to before.  This complete package cost less than the gate entry for my nearest team playing in the (then) SPL, who I still go to watch as my 'big team' on occasion.  An affordable intrepid afternoon's jaunt to Hampden, Forthbank, Bayview, Firs Park or wherever with a sense of independence* seemed to have more appeal than £15+ entry into redeveloped 12,000 seater sit-down-shut-up Lego brick stadia.  Even the buses going through random villages en-route that had previously only been names on roadsigns seemed interesting (think Dee Dee's day out to Yoker but with a football game thrown into the adventure). 

[Dirty Cash (Money Talks), Adventures of Stevie V]  This was helped by one of my teachers who played for Brechin at the time giving me his complimentary tickets seeing as nobody else wanted them.  At the time I wondered why, but now I no longer do.  This was a very nice gesture, but one that's probably banned under anti-grooming laws or something by now.  Many would be put off by their team being so shite that their teacher is in the first team, but not me.  I needed both a football fix and some leftover disposable income for Trance Nation CDs as well as Panini stickers that would simply result in having doubles of Michel Doesburg, Zoran Lemajic and the likes.  My soul was up for sale.

Then, when I moved to Aberdeen for uni [Party All Day, Steel Panther], Brechin became the closer team by a considerable distance.  Looks like they'll be playing even closer to home on a fortnightly basis once they join the HL, meaning I can finally go to a game without setting an alarm and enjoy a long Friday night that bit more.

 

*except for when I lost my bus ticket in Falkirk [dun-dun-dun, BBC Sound Effects Vol.4]  and had to phone my mum for a rescue lift home from a payphone using reverse charges.  [Adagio For Strings, Samuel Barber]  I had also gone with a bright white away shirt that became covered with spilled gravy from an overloaded bridie, and I hadn't taken a jumper/jacket to cover it up because it was a tropical day.  Walking topless about Falkirk High Street asking passers by for contributions towards a bus fare would possibly have been a more dignified approach and avoided a hammer blow to a fragile adolescent ego. 

Edited by Hedgecutter
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